


The best laid plans

by hannapalooza



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: First Time, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-22 16:12:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannapalooza/pseuds/hannapalooza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Misha hatches a plan, Jensen is oblivious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The best laid plans

It was an early call, the morning damp and chilly with fog. Misha caught up with him in makeup.

“Morning sweet cheeks.”

Jensen grinned at him in the mirror. “Man, it’s too early to be this cheerful.”

Misha pouted playfully at him “aww Jensen the grouch, not had your morning caffeine injection?”

Jensen gestured carefully at his much loved travel mug sitting on the counter in front of him.

“Sometimes one cup just isn’t enough.”

“I sensed that. And so...voila!” With a flourish Misha produced a cup of coffee bearing the logo of Jensen’s favourite shop from behind his back.

Jensen grinned wider “I would hug you right now if Casey wouldn’t kill me for it.”

“Mr Ackles you’re so easy.” Misha made sure Jensen caught his wink before sitting down next to him and handing him the coffee.

Jensen toasted him, holding eye contact in the mirror “seriously, thanks.” He took a sip, closing his eyes briefly. “Perfect too, you know me so well.”

“It was my pleasure, Jen.”

They lapsed into silence as the makeup girls continued their fussing, the trailer so quiet Misha could hear the birds in the trees outside, and he allowed himself to drift in the peace, comfortable and contented.  He remained aware enough to follow Amy’s instructions, to kid himself he could feel Jensen’s presence in the chair next to him but was still a little startled when Amy announced she was done. He smiled his thanks, rolled his shoulders with a satisfied hum and opened his eyes. As usual Jensen had at least one partially healed wound to be painted on, but Misha could see that Casey was almost finished so he took his time getting to his feet and checking his phone as she applied the finishing touches.

Misha was leaning against the trailer when Jensen emerged, head tilted to the sky and his eyes closed; a genuinely happy smile on his face.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?”

Misha smiled wider, tipping his head down to look Jensen in the eye. “It’s going to be a beautiful day Jensen, I can feel it.” He pushed himself away from the trailer and fell into step beside Jensen, close enough for their shoulders to brush together as they strolled across the set.

“So you’re a meteorologist now too?”

“Beautiful days are rarely about the weather.”

“Cheerful _and_ profound and it’s barely 5am. You’ll have to tell me your secret one day.”

“Maybe I’ll show you.”

Jensen laughed, stopping outside his trailer door.

“Dinner if you don’t wrap too late?”

Jensen nodded “Sounds good, I should be done for the day by around 7.”

“Ok, I’ll pick you up at 9.”

“You’ll pick me up? What is this a date?”

Misha laughed, leaned in and kissed Jensen fleetingly on the cheek. “Absolutely, so you’d better dress slutty.” He let the warmth of Jensen’s laugh carry him back to his own trailer.

 

                                             *~*~*~*~*                                        *~*~*~*~*

Misha checked himself over in the rear view mirror as he pulled up to Jensen’s house. Shutting off the engine he grabbed the flowers from the passenger seat and headed up to the front door. He knocked and heard the twin scrabbles of paws coming to investigate, but Jensen didn’t answer. Misha looked at his watch, he was a little early so maybe Jensen was still getting ready, and although he’d wanted to do this properly it wouldn’t be the first time he’d let himself in. He fished out his keys and unlocked the door.

Icarus and Oscar greeted him with their usual enthusiasm and he patted them both fondly. They turned tail heading down the hall to the den and Misha followed. Jensen was crashed out on the couch, one arm dangling to the floor, snoring gently and by rights he should’ve been pissed that Jensen was screwing up his carefully laid plans but instead Misha felt a surge of affection so strong it startled him. Crossing the room quietly, he snagged the blanket from the top of the couch and gently covered Jensen before retreating to the kitchen and reaching for his phone.

 

“Gotham Steakhouse this is Katie”

“Hi Katie it’s Misha Collins.”

Katie let out a long suffering groan, but it was tinged with laughter. “Please Misha, don’t ask to push your table, we’re slammed tonight.”

Misha laughed “For once Katie I’m not. I need a favour.”

“What do you want?” She sounded wary.

“I need two of your finest meals...but I need them to go.”

“You want take-out? Are you kidding me?”

“Think of the tip Katie...and you can give away my table. It’s win, win!”

Katie sighed again. “Ok, ok I’ll go ask Frank and call you back. You know what you want to order?”

“Of course. You’re a star Katie, thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

Misha disconnected the call and crossed to the fridge to snag himself a beer.

 

Forty minutes and three phone calls later dinner was on its way, the table was set, flowers arranged and Misha was sitting in the breakfast nook idly paging through an old issue of Rolling Stone. Jensen appeared in the doorway with a dark pillow crease the length of his cheek and his hair defying gravity.

“I’m so sorry I crashed as soon as I got in. Have we missed our table?”

Misha tried to hide his glee but he couldn’t help grinning a little at sleep rumpled Jensen. “Don’t fret my pet, I have pulled my overlord strings and the puppets are manoeuvring into position as we speak.”

A frown creased Jensen’s face as his tired brain attempted to make sense of what Misha was saying.

Misha shot a pitying look at Jensen as he got to his feet and crossed to the doorway. He took Jensen gently by the shoulders and turned him around. “Go, shower, make yourself pretty for me. You’ve got about thirty minutes.”

“Oh. Ok.” Jensen obediently walked off towards his bedroom and Misha returned to the table.

 

 

Jensen reappeared twenty minutes later, dressed in a light grey button down and a pair of snug fitting dark blue jeans. Misha was busy serving up the steaming food, but he spared a glance as Jensen approached. He looked Jensen up and down critically, cocking his head in a parody of Castiel.

“Not particularly slutty Jen.”

“Hey! Danneel says my ass looks amazing in these jeans!”

Misha raised an eyebrow, twirled his finger in the air to get Jensen to turn around.

“Personally I think she’s giving the jeans too much credit.”

Jensen laughed as he spun back. “Ok fine, since you’ve bought me dinner.” He winked and popped open another button on his shirt.

“That’s better.” Misha picked up the plates and nodded to the bottle of wine on the counter “Can you grab that?”

Jensen nodded and followed him out of the kitchen into the dining room.

Jensen laughed when he entered the room, noting the artfully laid table; the lights dimmed to a golden glow. He sat and gestured at the vase in the centre.

“You got me flowers?”

Misha didn’t respond, carefully placed a plate in front of Jensen and took the seat opposite him.  

 

                                             *~*~*~*~*                                        *~*~*~*~*

 

“Ok, spill it.”

They’d relocated to the couch in the den after eating, both comfortably full and warm with wine. Misha had insisted on making the coffee, and now they sat, cradling steaming mugs in their hands, relaxed and easy.

Misha took a sip, kept a straight face. “What do you mean?”

Jensen sighed, carefully placed his mug on the coffee table, and angled his body to face Misha. “What’s all this? Dinner from my favourite steak house, flowers, making the coffee, is there some special occasion I’m missing?”

Misha looked thoughtful for a moment. “A special occasion? No, not this year. But I’m not sure what you were expecting when I said I was taking you on a date?”

Jensen looked up so quickly he felt his neck crack, searched Misha’s face to see if he was being serious. “Wait. This is an _actual_ date?”

“Well, it’s not exactly what I’d planned, but the broad strokes – show you a good time and hit on you at the end of the night -  that’s still going as I intended.”

Jensen didn’t respond. He dropped his gaze and took his own time wasting sip of coffee as the seconds slipped by. Misha was trying for unconcerned but he could see that Jensen was actually considering his words, hadn’t rejected him out of hand; and that was an outcome he hadn’t dared to dwell on.

“Why now?” Jensen said softly.

Misha turned, drawing his legs up to sit crossed legged with his back against the arm of the sofa. He placed his mug in the centre, keeping it balanced with one hand.

“We’re friends Jensen. Good friends; and our friendship was the reason I didn’t make a move on you ages ago. But I realised something yesterday.”

“What?”

Misha smiled. “I had an epiphany. Nothing spiritual but enlightening none the less. I came to the conclusion that I’m an idiot. Because you’re not an asshole you’re a gentleman and if you weren’t interested you’d let me down gently and not run screaming to the hills or never speak to me again or...”

“When are you going to get to the punch line Misha?” Jensen interrupted.

“What’s the punch line?” 

Jensen drained his coffee and placed the mug deliberately on the table. He leaned forward and took Misha’s empty cup, putting it next to his own.

“It’s when you stop talking and kiss me.”

Misha smiled and glanced at his watch “Oh _that_ punch line. That’s going to happen pretty much now.”

Misha closed the gap between them in time to feel Jensen’s laugh against his mouth as he tasted those plush lips for the first time, dark with wine and coffee. Jensen kissed with skill and seemingly infinite patience, but he betrayed his need in hitching breath, the convulsive tightening of his fingers tangling in Misha’s hair as Misha let himself get worked higher and higher, overwhelmed in sensation.

They broke to snatch some air, and the sight of Jensen’s half-lidded lust-blown eyes broke the last of Misha’s self restraint. He felt something primeval and possessive deep in his gut as he placed a palm on Jensen’s chest above his hammering heart and pushed him back, following him down into a hard and frantic kiss.

They rutted together tugging at dishevelled clothing without any finesse in a desperate need for skin, eagerly swallowing the mutual sounds of need that rose from their throats, the friction and the heat both too much and not enough.

Suddenly Misha stopped, sat up to kneel between Jensen’s splayed legs, unconsciously licking his lips at the debauched picture he made, sprawled and panting. Jensen tilted his head to look him in the eye.

“Are you ok Misha?”

Misha looked away for a brief second before answering. “This isn’t really working for me.”

He felt Jensen tense under him, had to bite his lip to keep a straight face. Misha didn’t leave him hanging for long, that would’ve been counterproductive. He placed a hand on Jensen’s thigh, felt the shiver of muscle as he curled his fingers. “I really need you laid out, naked and on a bed. That would work.”

Jensen sat up, pushing lightly against Misha’s chest. “Asshole.”

Misha inclined his head in agreement, rising in one fluid movement from the couch and grabbing Jensen by the wrist to lead him to the bedroom.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
